Dark Chocolate
by Spiritual Stone
Summary: Eternal service as an immortal guide wasn't so bad, what with perpetual youth, a wealth of knowledge, unlimited magic at your disposal, not to mention the satisfaction of raising a Hero to destroy evil. Not bad at all, as long as you didn't fall in love.
1. Chapter 1

**It occured to me that it was Valentines Day soon! Fic opportunity galore~! XD Anyway, this is a two-part (possibly three) story, so I'll send that actual finishing chapter on the special day. **

**This fic is for all those who got recently dumped (I know how that feels), those who have someone they want to share that Valentine with but don't have the guts to (I also know how that feels) and for those who like angsty-Sheik-fluff (that's me. XD)**

**Enjoy!**

****

_

* * *

_

****

_Bitter Chocolate_

He remembered the first day they'd met.

She'd been eleven, and he'd been, well, seven years younger than he was now, he didn't know exactly how old he was anymore. The last time he'd been awake was when Napoleon was making a fuss, and he'd been banished back in the Lens for stating that invading Russia would be a bad, _bad_ idea.

_He dropped into the dark, the forever going dark, the equivalent of sleep within his existence. But he was awake, and as he dropped, gently, an immeasurable time passed before he sunk into light and new surroundings, and he was still wearing the French military uniform as he found himself in some sort of dusty storage area._

_Groggily, vaguely aware that he was sitting on a box that was collapsing in on itself because of his weight (he would learn later it was made out of cardboard) he looked at the child that was holding the Lens, his prison, and somehow _knew_ exactly who he/she(?) was. He could feel the history in the blood, the old resonance of power like a passed thunder-growl, shivering his ribcage._

_A descendant of the Hero of Time and the Princess of Destiny. His jailers. _

_The descendant looked at him, mouth agape, holding the Lens in shaking hands. His/her hair was short, and wore a strange pair of trousers that was baggy enough to look like a skirt, and on her shirt was a star with eyes that gave a cheeky wink. Sheik opened his mouth, to say something but he was interrupted, and he knew by voice that the child was a girl. "Are you a genie? If you are, can I have a pet dog? Please?"_

_He closed his eyes and prayed for patience, despair colouring his desperate plea._

-8-{C3 ... -8-{C3 ... -8-{C3

Not that it had been necessary. In fact, it was her that'd had to be patient, teaching him about cars, computers and washing machines. It was her who'd supplied him with books on TV, Shakespeare and other important pieces of literature, and the modern dress-code. Thankfully, that'd sparked her interest in history, and she filled him in on everything there was to know about what had happened since his incarceration.

He knew of bits and pieces, but it was a matter of stringing them together. He'd served under Tutankhamen, he'd watched premieres of Euripides' plays; he'd fought alongside Author Pendragon, he'd ground his teeth at the Great Wall. He'd teased Siddhārtha Gautama, rolled his eyes at a man who'd preached forgiveness (which, after learning what he'd accomplished, felt a little sheepish over) and other things that he vaguely remembered in no particular order.

He still found it hard to believe that he was somewhere around five thousand years old. But trapped he had been in the Lens of Truth, and there he had stayed as floods worthy of bathing gods roared over the world, drowning magic and Hyrule and everything he'd known, and new cultures, new wars and new systems of government wheeled past, his only companions the endless line of Heroes and Royalty that needed advising.

And his charge right now, was none other than one of the descendants of the Hero of Time and the Princess of Destiny.

Not that she looked it, which was understandable after roughly fifty centuries. Her eyes were less blue, more grey, like sea mist against the sand. She was short, and had more ample bosom than Zelda ever had. She didn't tan in the sun; she burned, reddened, freckled if she was lucky. She was broad in the shoulders; talked in such a brash and confident, _uncouth_ way that it would have put Zelda in a roll in her grave. She didn't resemble her powerful male ancestor either; Link would have gawped in horror if he could see one of _his_ descendants back away from a shop window because of the mere sight of _dolls_ because they were creepy things out to get her soul, not to mention her complete incapability to live in the wild.

Only her name held a shadow of her long lost past. And that was just by frightening coincidence.

-8-{C3 ... -8-{C3 ... -8-{C3

There were a lot of things he remembered, watching her grow up.

Aged ten:

_Her parents were going out but the babysitter they'd hired couldn't come anymore because of the flu. They'd searched for a replacement with all their desperate hearts, and they called a cell-phone number printed on a piece of paper that'd been shoved into their letterbox, advertising a sensible young man, ready to go anywhere at any time._

_Lin hugged him as soon as he opened the door, a plan successfully executed. They didn't comment on the colour of his eyes, as he'd charmed them to look brown. _

_They were watching a movie when she'd asked, "When's your birthday?"_

_He'd shrugged. "I don't remember."_

_She mashed her palms into her face like the famous painting 'Scream'. "You don't know your _birthday_?"_

"_I didn't have anyone to remind me."_

"_But it's the best day in the whole year! It's even better than Christmas because you don't have to give anyone anything."_

_He glared at her._

_Her pity flipped to excited glee. "Let's make you one."_

_He gave an exasperated sigh. "I don't need a birthday."_

"_You get presents! And people have to be nice to you on that day, and you get cake and stuff, too."_

"_You're always nice to me." He ruffled her hair as he would a puppy's, making her scowl._

"_I'm giving you a birthday. I will."_

That stunt as a babysitter lasted only once, her parents uncomfortable with leaving their only daughter alone with a young man. Of course, and perhaps because of this, she'd forgotten to give him his birthday for maybe a year and a half. But eventually she presented him with a date, through the use of horoscopes. He was now a Taurus, born on the 1st of April, the Fool's Day.

He couldn't help but find it fitting.

He remembered when Lin was twelve and was learning to swim better and he'd promised to assist her, and had shocked her silly at the scars on his body. She dived on him and threatened to scratch him to shreds if he didn't tell her who'd done such terrible things to him, and he'd had to tell her that it wasn't a single person that'd done it, most of the time they weren't even human, and they were all long dead. He did, however, promise to tell a new tale about how he'd gotten said scars whenever she accomplished goals both he and her gym teacher set for her.

She'd become the best swimmer in hardly no time at all.

He remembered when she was fifteen, marvelling at how she was growing so fast, how beautiful she was going to be, and then it occurred to him that perhaps that he was getting a little too attached. Attached to her odd stream of questions that made him laugh, the way she smiled sheepishly when she was praised, the brash and almost sadistic laugh she let forth when she defeated monsters in her RPGs, perhaps her ancestor's legacy fuelling her triumph.

Her small hand in his.

He remembered how he'd asked her permission to be returned to the Lens.

"_Huh?" she replied, draped sideways over the couch, "Why?"_

"_Because I'm tired. I haven't been out this long in a very long time."_

"_But don't you like it outside?"_

"_It's like camping. After a while it's good to get back home and rest."_

_Which was a lie. He loved it outside the Lens, considering he'd never been let out for more than a couple of hours if he'd been extremely lucky. On average it was more like a few minutes, to ask questions, to seek guidance. But the dark numbed everything, and years would seem like a moment in there, and he was sure Lin would forget him once he was gone._

"_Well, okay," she shrugged, "But why don't you just go in and out like you do at night?"_

_Sheik sighed. "That only happens because sleep counts as being dismissed. I can't willingly go in and out of the lens; it has to be commanded."_

"_Can't I just, I dunno, free you?" she flippantly enquired as she leafed through her comic, "You're like the genie from the Disney movie, right? I free you and you get to do whatever you want?"_

"_I'm not a genie. I'm a prisoner." _

"_Like, jail, crime, and stuff?" she enquired, cocking her head to the side doubtfully, "What'd you do?"_

_Sheik tapped his foot and drummed his fingers against his crossed arm before speaking. "You know of necromancy?"_

"_I'm reading about it now." She grinned. "Magic zombies, right?"_

"_I tried it out."_

"_Cool." She went back to her comic. "So?"_

"_I needed to kill a few people to get started, Lin."_

_He could almost see the shiver that crossed her spine. She finally put the comic down, and looked at him a little fearfully. "Um…?"_

"_You know Hitler. We had a king like him in my time. And I tried resurrecting him."_

_She grew pale, and the fear doubled. "_Why_?"_

"_Because I was jealous of the Hero that got all the glory for taking him out and marrying the Princess I loved."_

_She bit her lip. She opened her comic again, as if seeking wisdom from it, before returning her gaze to him. "Do you, um, l-love anyone now?"_

_Strange, how this girl tossed the three-word phrase around like breadcrumbs but stuttered over that single word like a forbidden curse. _

"_No."_

_She uneasily leafed through the comic again, rocking from side to side. "Well, I… are you going to try doing it again?"_

_Sheik shook his head. _

"_So, that's why you're stuck in the Lens? Cuz, you tried to bring back the King of Evil?"_

_He nodded. _

"_Weeeelll…" she chewed on her bottom lip and hit the comic against her leg, still shuffling where she sat, "You've been stuck in there for a long, long while, right?"_

"_As you put it."_

"_It can't be nice."_

_He sighed. "No, it's not nice."_

"_Then why do you want to go back?"_

_She had him there, so he stayed quiet. An awkward moment passed, so Sheik added, "Your parents are worried about you, you know. They know you're keeping something secret. Me, to be exact. You won't be able to call me your imaginary friend anymore. It's best that I'm out of sight for a while." _

"_I don't mind, you know." She told him bravely, when clearly she did, "I don't mind. I like you."_

"_Am I worth your parents' worry?"_

"_I like you a lot, Sheik." She insisted, "And people get let out of prison eventually, don't they?"_

"_Some people don't deserve to. For some it's for life."_

"_And that's why they have parole." She snapped, her patience spent. She returned to her comic, stonily looking for her page. "You're staying out of the Lens and that's final."_

He should've scared her more, or something, anything to have her trap him in the Lens until someone less interesting stumbled upon it and asked for his advice. Then he wouldn't have this hole in his chest, feeling like he was watching her helplessly from a time-sealed prison.

-8-{C3 ... -8-{C3 ... -8-{C3

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked once again, still shaking the can.

Because _he_ certainly did, though that was not the point. After all, it was his charge that was doing the deed, and was going to feel guilty over said deed, and Sheik was in no position to persuade her to carry on if she was having second thoughts. Thankfully though, the response Sheik got was what allowed him to happily and vindictively hand the can to her.

This, indeed, were one of the perks of eternal servitude under crazy heroes.

"No." she gave it back to him, scowling. "If I hold that from the start he'll find it suspicious."

Sheik snorted. "Less suspicious and more hopeful, I'd say. Isn't that the effect you want?"

"'Hopeful' is being too, well, hopeful on my part. On a more practical level the mound might collapse while I just stand there." She scowled deeply as she clenched her hands in her pockets. "And I don't want to look like I'm trying to win him back."

For the thousandth time, Sheik looked her up and down, at the boots polished to a shine, skin tight jeans that complimented her figure, an off-shoulder shirt, the make-up and the earrings, hair tied back so nothing was hidden.

She looked lovely, just as planned.

Sheik shook his head and sighed. "I still don't understand."

"Huh?"

"If you're here to, quote, 'officially get over him', unquote, I don't see the point of the effort you put into…" he waved at her whole body and finished, "well, this."

"To prove both him _and_ myself that he is missing out on someone very unique and wonderful."

Sheik grinned. "You don't have to tell me."

"I could use the ego boost," she shrugged before nervously looking around. "Alright, here's the box, and the plate's inside." She handed him said objects before backing away. "I'll pull out my phone when I need them, kay? And lather it on, as much as you can. I'm counting on you."

"I know. Good luck."

She nodded before picking up her book bag and venturing out of the shade, standing in the grass of Auru Park, looking expectantly around. Sheik sat down on a convenient root of the tree, placing the can of cream and the box typically associated with cakes onto the ground, drumming his fingers against his thigh as he played with his butterfly knife.

The boy she was meeting waved to her from a distance. Hesitantly, she waved back.

Sheik's upper lip twitched briefly in derision. Kafei Dotour. They'd dated a few months, and he'd ditched her a few weeks before Christmas, as simple as that. His reasons included 'not taking care of himself', 'he wanted to go overseas' and the clincher: 'they didn't see each other much anyway'.

Of course they didn't see each other often; he worked weekends, and _she_ worked weeknights, and they only shared one subject at university. But she'd looked forward to every meagre time she was to have with the boy, smiling at the thought of him, admitting shyly that she believed she loved him.

_That_ had hurt, surprisingly so.

But, Sheik reminded himself, shaking his head, she was a soul that loved easily. _I love you_ spilled out of her mouth constantly, easily, and she'd always been like that. To her friends, to her family, to him. She was easily flattered too, and considering it was the boy that'd asked her to the movies, the boy who'd confessed his love to her first, she was swallowed whole by infatuation and love. Unguarded.

Sheik snorted at the thought, feeling a little bit of a failure.

He remembered coming home that day, cocking his eyebrow at how viciously she mashed her thumbs against the Nintendo64 console, hammering a computer generated character continuously and mercilessly. She'd even set it so that the character couldn't die. Then she'd gone to work and come back after a terrible shift full of mistakes, and by the time he'd arrived to pick her up from the bus-stop, she'd been gorging on two large scoops of expensive gelato despite the fact that it was nearing midnight, tears leaking from her eyelids as she mashed the ice-cream into mouth.

He'd knelt in front of her, alarmed and concerned, regretting all the jokes he'd made about how she was going to get sacked, canned, snipped, given the push, the pink slip, the guillotine any day now. "Lin? What's wrong?"

She'd hiccupped, hunched over her cone of melting ice-cream, her face completely childlike with the smear of chocolate around her mouth and the red nose and the dripping eyes. "He dumped me."

"What?"

"He dumped me, and I made mistakes at work and I'm gonna be fired, I know so, and I got ice-cream to make me feel better."

He'd sighed, sat next to her on the bus-stop bench, and draped his coat round her shoulders as she sucked on the cold treat. They went home together only after there was no ice-cream threatening to spill over the rim of the cone; and that gave him plenty of time to assure her that she wasn't going to get fired, she was an excellent though careless waitress, and that the boy was an utter dick.

Lin didn't laugh, but she smiled, and thanked him, and told him she loved him.

That had also hurt him surprisingly _hard_.

He shouldn't be feeling this, for his own sake. This had happened before. He'd gotten attached to the people around him, and then they'd grown old, and he'd been left behind to serve another royal master, or to verse a hero in the ways of heroism as his friends went cold in their graves. The lens of truth had passed through many hands, after all. Thus in the shadows he had regressed, almost forcefully so, so that he knew no anger, nor hatred for his fate, and the bloodline that'd imprisoned him to it. He'd thought, even, that the flow of time had snuffed his sense of desire.

She'd proved that notion wrong.

Lin was still standing awkwardly in front of her ex, though that was a word that Sheik didn't like using. Too modern for his tongue. But what else could he call that idiot? He wasn't used to relationships that were so easily made and then broken; he may not have looked it, but Sheik was an old-fashioned codger through and through.

He watched her nervously starting the conversation, him easily replying. She clutched the book-bag tightly to herself, as she went through her practiced accusations in her head, working herself up to say them. Why was he still here? Why wasn't he overseas? Because that was one of the reasons he'd broken up with her, wasn't it?

Sheik couldn't help a soft smirk. She'd reported fully on the scenario on the break-up, and he couldn't have been prouder; perhaps the courage her ancestor had boasted ran through her blood.

"I didn't cry, you know, not in front of him," she'd grumped the next day, waking up with more sand in her eyes than usual, "Okay, well, I did, but I was hugging him so he didn't see me, and he was crying too. You'd wonder why he'd break with me if he was _crying_ about it, but hey, what's passed is passed, right?"

Sheik had been heartened by her wan smirk. He'd told her to eat the breakfast he'd prepared for her and she'd sighed gratefully at his pancakes. "And you know what I said as he left? I was kinda proud of myself, so don't laugh at me, kay?"

"I won't laugh." He'd assured her as he leaned against the kitchen table, an image of attentiveness.

Lin had grinned. "I told him I'd kick his arse."

Sheik had blinked. "Really?"

"Yep. I said that if he's in the country by the time university starts, because that's when he said that he wanted to be in Labrynna by, I'm gonna beat him up."

She'd speared her pancakes as Sheik pursed his lips. "Isn't that assault?"

Her face fell despondently. "I'd forgotten about that."

"Could be figurative, though," he pointed out, "The beat up. Or I could do it for you."

He'd really, really wanted to. That bastard had _hurt_ his charge. Worse, he had hurt _his Lin_.

He snapped to attention, waking from his reverie, and he was just in time; Lin pulled her cell-phone from her book bag and furiously began to txt (which was an utter pretence, as her phone was turned off), a sign for him to do his work.

Hurriedly, Sheik opened the cake box, got the can, and sprayed its contents on the plate. He couldn't help but grin, remembering all the days she'd squealed in laughter at this very prank that'd been hosted on TV on numerous occasions.

His work done, Sheik closed the box, placed the can on the ground and walked towards the two, keeping his face straight, a skill he'd acquired over years of practice.

"Do you remember what I said?" Sheik heard her say to him, bracing herself for the deed.

"Uh… yeah?" he was looking nervous as he watched Sheik approach.

"Lin, here." Sheik handed her the box.

"Thanks Sheik," she took the box and Sheik walked away. At least, he made a glamour so it _looked_ like he was walking away. In reality he stayed by her side, unwilling to miss this moment.

"Who was that?" the boy asked, making Sheik scowl.

"A good friend. Does it matter?" she asked back, opening the box. Behind the lid, she smiled.

"Well, I just thought… I remember what you said, and," he chuckled uneasily, "I thought you asked him to punch me or something."

_She didn't ask me,_ Sheik glowered, _I volunteered and she declined, you prick_.

"That would be assault." She replied primly, making the boy sigh. "But I'm still kicking your arse."

And she reached into the box, pulled out the mountainous whipped-cream pie, and _hurled_ the tinfoil plate of lathered chocolate-flavoured fat straight into his face.

Sheik's face split in a grin and he had to stuff his hand into his mouth to stop himself from howling in mirth as the ex stumbled back.

"_That_ was for dumping me." She spat, face red as a tomato, pulling out a water gun from her book-bag, "And _this_ is for lying to me."

She blasted him with iced water, snarling. Sheik couldn't stop himself; he doubled over and _laughed_; she hadn't informed him of this part of the plan. The idiot was collapsed on the ground, choking on cream and drowning under the relentless attack. When she stopped and he'd wiped the chocolate cream off of his face, she towered over his prone form, and smiled.

"Happy Valentines Day."

* * *

**Part 2 will be here in a few days, don't worry! ;D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2! I thought I might split it in three but I ran out of time so yeah, imagine two chapters crammed in here. Enjoy!**

**Also, the lines separating the parts of the chapters are supposed to be flowers. The lines are the stem, the eight is the leaves, and the brackets and stuff are supposed to be the petals. Think daffodils, and that might help.**

****

_

* * *

_

****

_Chapter 2_

"Well," Lin stretched under the sun, and threw her bag over her shoulder. "That was liberating."

Sheik snorted. "That's all?"

She grinned. "And satisfying."

"Try hilarious."

"Glad you thought so."

They leisurely walked through the green of the Lakeside University, searching for her friends for the arranged Valentine's lunch. They were to share all manners of chocolate goods, like cakes and cookies and rabbits, though Sheik was sure that was usually reserved for another holiday.

The chocolate cream was an addition to the extremely unhealthy event, and Lynda shook the can and sprayed it straight into her throat. She coughed and clapped her hands to her mouth, and Sheik rubbed her back as he dryly eyed her.

After a swallowing the mass of whipped cream she smiled, tapping a fist against her chest. "TV makes that look so easy."

"I've never trusted TV, and now you know why."

"You don't trust phones either, Sheik," she replied reproachfully, and Sheik just rolled his eyes and didn't bother arguing.

"So, what's going to happen to you now?" he asked as she wiped her mouth, smudging her lip-gloss. Annoyed with it, she licked it off, slowly savouring the watermelon flavour and forcing Sheik to look away.

"Well, if he still wants to be friends with me after that, I don't mind anymore." She shrugged, "I am _over _him. I am a perfect image of indifference, thus I do not care. And I think I'll be single for a while."

Sheik couldn't help but smirk derisively. "Fat chance."

She turned on him, placing a hand on her chest in mock-hurt. "Oh come on. I'm not boy-crazy. In fact, I'm more like a crazy-boy. Only I'm a girl."

He turned back to look at her, eyes half-lidded. "If you hadn't noticed, you've made a few boys crazy for you. I bet you James will be making his move soon."

Lin scrunched her nose. "James? As in, _James_, James?"

"Yes. James Tingle. He does English with you." Sheik rolled his eyes sarcastically. She could be so _dense_. "He's besotted with you."

She snorted, even as a blush touched her nose. "Yeah, right. He's just a friend."

"He was _fawning_ over you. I bet you that he'll be giving you a chocolate. _Privately_." He sighed, kneading his forehead. "He bought you coffee even when you were dating. He asked a friend for free popcorn when you went to the movies with him, from the one that works there, remember? If you also hadn't noticed, he adores your singing. And he's an _opera singer_. You could feel the hope radiating off him like an electric blanket."

Her blush was spreading over her pale cheeks, now. "But that's what friends do, right? Complement each other?"

"Din, Nayru and Furore," Sheik wailed at the sky, "You can be so _dense_."

"I know that! You don't have to point it out so bluntly…"

"Lin, you _know_ how long I've lived," Sheik whirled round, stopping her in her tracks. "And I can honestly say there has never been a girl as unique as you, not ever."

She scowled. "That's because I'm insane."

"That's because you're honest with yourself, _and_ insane." Sheik corrected, sighing irritably. "You are so completely insane it's amazing. Your trains of thought make no sense, and your sense of fun is often bizarre and many shades of unusual. And the horrifying thing is, it _works_. Because you're so terrifyingly _honest_ with yourself and you do what the hell you want, others are comfortable enough to do just the same and _that_ lets you make friends so fast it's worrying and attracts so much attention it drives _me_ insane."

She looked at him, pouting, and drawled, "I have no idea whether you're complimenting me or not."

"I'm stating a _fact_." Sheik growled, frustrated, "You are like a magnet. The likelihood of you being left alone is _low_."

She rolled her eyes and waved it all away. "You're reading into him too deeply. Come on, we're going to be late."

She ran ahead, and Sheik sighed. He missed the days when she would grab his hand and insistently drag him wherever she wanted to go. When was the last time they'd held hands? Too long. Or perhaps not long enough. Because one day she was going to be as old as him, and then older, and older still, till he would attend to her children, and then her grandchildren, and then to her funeral, looking just the same as he did now, aching at the very thought that the long scream of time would grate on his soul again.

They met with her friends, hugs were shared, and then triumphant hi-fives at the cream-pie incident. James looked extremely happy for her, Sheik noted dryly, before they moved on _back_ to where he and Lin had been walking, spreading a blanket and laying out the food, which thankfully didn't just consist of chocolate. There was a large fruit salad, and marshmallows, sausage rolls, sandwiches and muffins of the savoury kind. Sheik gratefully reached for the substantial food whilst the others dived for the neenish tarts, the white-chocolate and raspberry cake, the afghan cookies and the chocolate rabbits.

Sheik remembered how much she'd been looking forward to this day, when she was still dating and had believed that the relationship would last for at least six months.

They talked about their holidays, their jobs, their choice of study subjects and their families. The subject of boy/girlfriends was hesitantly broached, and at Lin's easy contribution to it, lasted for a long time. Sheik let out a breath of relief before munching on a piece of apple.

They were going to hit the town later that night, so after making arrangements to meet at the university gates some hours later, they parted. James tapped Lin's shoulder and asked for a word, since he couldn't go out on the town with them.

Sheik cocked an eyebrow at her as she followed James, and waited patiently for her.

-8-{C3 -8-{C3 -8-{C3

Her face was ashen as she held the prettily wrapped package. "I can't believe you were right."

He shrugged. "Experience does that."

"But he's just a _friend_."

"You should probably tell him that, then." He replied reasonably, making her sigh.

"I can't do it today, I mean, it's Valentines." Sheik rolled his eyes. She scowled. "Do you even know what it's like to be rejected?"

"I know what it is to have no chance at all." He grumbled, and Lin had a sulky expression on her face the whole walk back to the hall of residences.

Sheik sighed, closing the door to his room. He had a feeling he was going to have another painful time getting used to being immortal as he threw himself onto the bed. His tiny, _tiny_ envelope-like room was right next to Lin's, and often he heard her singing as she did her homework with her earphones on.

That always made him smile.

He dozed, waking at the knock at his door to find his room relatively darker than he remembered. He stumbled there, opening it with an unravelling rattle of the chain lock, and he had to swallow at the sight of Lin.

Her carefully painted toes were clad in high-heeled, red leather sandals, gleaming with rhinestones. His eyes went up the legs tamed to perfection, then the dress, a white strapless garment with red lace round the hem, with embroidery trailing up like a string of flowers on a field of snow, a large scarlet ribbon cinching it under her chest, accenting her ample chest, flaring the skirt in such way that it made her look taller. At her throat was a pendant that Sheik had given her, a thing of simplicity, a single small clam shell that ranged in colours of pink. Her makeup had been freshened, to more effect. Her hair had been painstakingly curled, and her ears held large silver hoops.

She looked gorgeous.

"Well, are you coming?"

Automatically: "You look fine."

She smiled with a note of confusion. "…What?"

"I mean, yes. I mean I'm coming."

She chuckled and lightly touched his hair. "Do you have bedhead?"

"I dozed off." He sounded too defensive as he backed into his room. "Just, let me change my shirt."

He didn't bother closing the door, because she would get impatient with him. He looked for a suitable shirt and found one rumpled on the floor, stripping the t-shirt he wore off in favour of it.

He was halfway through buttoning it up when he noticed that she was watching him.

Indignantly, he hissed. "_Lin_."

"What?" she chuckled, stepping in to help him; desire curled his stomach as he felt her fingers brush his torso, righting his hurried mistakes. "It's not the first time I've seen you shirtless."

"You were twelve."

"And I still remember all the stories from the scars. Like this one." She touched his shoulder, running her fingertip down the mound of messily healed flesh. "Sea-snake, right?"

"Of a sort," he clipped, expression stony.

"You're such an old codger," she pouted, before beckoning to hurry. "Come on. They're all waiting."

Sheik was well-aware that he'd been entertaining the thought of asking her to go without him before he'd seen her in that dress. The music played in the past almost-decade was fine, but it was played _far _too loud and the lighting effects were on the verge of violent hypnosis. Cursing his lack of self-control he summoned his wallet and keys from the mess of clothes that was his room before closing the door and forcing the tumblers to turn at a thought.

He did the same for Lin's room before hurrying after her, where she was entering the elevator and keeping it open for him.

-8-{C3 -8-{C3 -8-{C3

The words alluring, sensual, and spicy came to his mind as he watched her dance with her friends, drinking with the other males of their group, though they were all taken or hoping to be taken by said girls. Thankfully none of them were interested in Lin, so all he had to worry about were the other four dozen or so buggers that were milling around in the club, drinking and watching.

He took another sip of his gin and tonic, watching her slide with the music, rolling her hips, arms above her head, a smile playing at her glossed lips as she let the music take her. She gathered her single friends as the taken ones slow-danced with their sweethearts, and went around getting boys to buy them drinks. Probably a competition to see who could get more of those plastic toothpicks or paper umbrellas. Sheik kept vigil out of the corner of his eye as some other girl tried to do the same with him.

Someone held his arm. He nearly shrugged her off but he saw that it was Lin.

She grinned, and beckoned him closer with her index finger. He sighed, and leaned over so she could speak in his ear. "Can you buy me a drink? Please?"

She poked her tongue out at the girl who'd been chatting him up and made her go away.

Sheik scowled. He in turn spoke in her ear, careful to be heard over the hideously loud music without deafening her. "How do you know I wasn't interested in her?"

"You show your teeth when you fake a smile." She smugly replied before clasping her hands in plea. "I just want to pretend I'm cheating at the game before I pretend to chat up some guys, please? I'll owe you one."

He pretended to be annoyed as he ordered her a pinacolada. She blinked at the large cocktail and then at him. "So you can't get away from me." He shouted over the music, making her laugh.

"Thanks!"

And she nestled against his side as she watched her friends flirt with strangers. She held her drink in one hand, let the other dangle by her side. Her delicate knuckles brushed his. All he had to do was gently shift his position, curl his fingers through hers. It was that simple, that easy, and perhaps even natural. According to her, she was now completely and utterly free. He could hold her hand. Maybe she'd look at him. Maybe he'd lean down, and she won't turn away to lend him her ear.

But that scream of time, the years of watching her grow old without being able to be by her side froze him to the spot, and the thought of rejection, the awkward air that would induce in their precious time together made that scream that much shriller, longer, bone-rackingly terrifying.

So he did nothing, let her finish her drink without a word, and let her friends take her away and he raised a hand at her apologetic yell, but never looked up from his gin and tonic.

She melted in the crowd. He couldn't track her any more. With a growl of self-hatred Sheik knocked back his drink, banged the glass against the bar and demanded a straight gin, whiskey and tequila, and screw the lime and salt.

-8-{C3 -8-{C3 -8-{C3

Sheik had stopped his bingeing when he couldn't quietly put the glass down, and with his history, he could tell even in the cacophony. And control over his limbs was what he prided in, so damned be the gods if he let it slip away because of some stupid alcohol.

Lin was pleasantly drunk and when he told the others they'd take a taxi, which meant he would magic them home.

Nobody was in the elevator when they stepped through the shadows, which was a relief. Sheik shifted Lin's weight against his side, pulling the arm around his shoulders into a more comfortable position, which was a tad hard considering she was distinctly shorter than him. And it put her face uncomfortably close to his, while she dipped in and out of unconsciousness.

"Lin. Lin you should have a glass of water before you knock yourself out."

She giggled. Sheik sighed as the elevator door opened on their floor. He flexed his fingers in front of her door, and it sprung open without protest. He turned on the light, thinking he'll dump her on her bed, go to the communal kitchen for a glass of water, help himself to a jug and two cups, and come back.

He did just that, curling the shadows and silence liberally around his body, quieting his footsteps, muffling the clink of glass and choking the swish of water. He'd left the light on in her room to encourage her staying awake, but he didn't expect to find her rummaging in her desk, which was exactly what she was doing.

"I'm back."

She turned swaying, and smiled at him. "Sheik! Got somethin'… jes' Gimme a mo…"

"Lin, you're drunk. Come here, your water awaits."

"I di'this 'fore I was drunk, honest…" she giggled as she walked up to him, holding something behind her back. "Izz late, but I forgo' to take it with…" she blushed crimson, as she extended the wrapped gift to him.

It was a square box barely the size of her palm, wrapped in glossed paper to make it look taller and bigger than it was. Before he could receive it she tumbled forward and he had to catch her, a giggling mass of woman as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

The curl of desire came back with a vengeance. "Lin, seriously, you should…"

"Mmm…" her body moved against his, her breath warm as she pressed a kiss against his collarbone. "I like you."

She pulled away, and he wasn't seeing her, he was seeing Zelda, smiling in a kindly _sisterly_ way as she called him her best friend and tore his heart apart.

"…Why?"

She looked confused, and then scared at the anguish that bordered on rage that was plastered across his face. "Why am I never enough? Why am I _always second best_?"

"Sheik-"

He didn't care anymore. He was angry, he felt cheated by Zelda and Link for completely new reasons and it hurt even more than it ever did with them because he'd done nothing wrong this time, and she was within his grasp and she still didn't love him the way he wanted her to.

He kissed her.

She gasped and that just let him shove his tongue through her teeth, almost daring her to bite down, to reject him and call him disgusting and maybe he _was_ but he couldn't care less because he wanted this girl for just one night, one kiss, _anything_ other than this cloying ache of hesitant self-denial and putrid fear.

She pulled back and before he could follow or expect a vicious slap, she tightened her hold round his neck and kissed him, throwing a leg round his hip, forcing them ever closer. His hand darted down, as if to confirm the act, her willing participation, before sliding up her smooth calf and under her skirt, fingers lighting gently on her thigh as his palm traced a hot path over her skin, making her breath hitch.

He dived for an even deeper kiss, and she fought his tongue and lips with her own, pulling at his shirt with shaking hands, her heavy breathing quickening as he lifted her up onto her desk, letting her concentrate on the cumbersome buttons as he undid his belt.

He remembered the door. And the lights. He solved the first problem with a wave of his arm, forcing it closed and bolting it with a thought, and with a flick if his thumb the switch _clicked_ and they were plunged in darkness and he searched for her hot breath to guide her to his desperate kisses.

"I want you," he rasped, holding her, kicking his jeans away, trying to tear the dress from her.

"I, mmm, Sheik…" she pushed him gently, giving a soft gasp. "Sheik, wait,"

"No. No damn it, no…"

When their lips met lust and heat was in every lick, every touch, but her moan begged him to stop. Sheik gritted his teeth, and slowly pulled back as she took a shuddering breath, trying to calm the hammer of her heart, muttering, "Drunk, we're drunk…"

Sheik bit back his sarcastic remark, the heat radiating in his chest rotting from euphoria to pain.

"Fine. Fine."

He picked up his jeans and walked to the wall that divided his room from hers. His skin blackened like charcoal and then he dissipated, a ghost of char walking through wall and bed till he solidified into flesh and collapsed back on his mattress.

He ground the heel of his palms into his eyes, cursing over and over and over. Idiot. _Idiot_. Stupid idiotic dastardly prick of a _bastard_.

It was a long while till his heartbeat slowed, and longer, _much_ longer till he slept.

-8-{C3 -8-{C3 -8-{C3

_He remembered the rituals that took place to trap him in the Lens. He remembered it took days, because they gave him no water nor food to sustain him in said days, to weaken his power enough to seal him in his prison. Almost the same amount of days that they'd needed to investigate just how many people he'd killed. _

_It'd taken place at the entrance of the Shadow Temple, where such spells of entrapment worked best. His hands had been strapped to the triangles representing courage and wisdom, and the lens of truth had been placed on power. Link and Zelda had stood behind him, one hand on one of his shoulders, to channel the power of their Triforce pieces into him and into the lens. The flickering light of gods knew how many torches in the circular room had made him a little dizzy._

"_So, any last words?" Sheik had huffed, braving a smile at his future prison. _

"_I'd say that's _my_ line, Sheik," Link spat, the betrayal still raw, the grip on the killer's shoulder so harsh it bruised. _

"_Hey, it's you who'll be dying while I live forever more, figuratively speaking," Sheik shrugged his other shoulder, the one Zelda held. "So I bags the right to that phrase."_

"_I've got nothing to say to you."_

"_Zelda, then?" Sheik asked flippantly, even as his stomach gave a twist of apprehension, the Lens glowing, strengthened just right to accommodate his soul. _

_Silence._

"_Zelda." Sheik, for the first time, struggled. When he'd been accused of the murders, the conspiracies, he'd shrugged. When he'd been caught, he'd placidly smiled and let himself be led away, standing tall with his shoulders back. He hadn't asked for anything, complained of anything, begged for food or forgiveness; nothing. "Zelda!"_

_He remembered them growing up together, as an apprentice to Impa, trained to guide and protect her when Impa's age caught up with her. He'd known everything about her, her fears and joys, and he'd loved her, only to be viewed as a brother while _his best friend _took her hand and heart and his place in Zelda's life. _

_It took defeating an evil overlord to get her attention? He'd thought, Fine. He'd do just that, then._

_The Lens glowered. Sheik saw his reflection, _her_ reflection, and silent tears were rolling down her face as she and Link intoned the words to trap him forever._

_He hung his head, and the last words he uttered, was, "I'm sorry."_

_Sheik was swallowed by light and the Lens twitched. _

Sheik paused. Wait. This wasn't what he remembered. He remembered darkness, and waking up in the middle of a desert and horrified screaming of some merchant. How was he watching this…?

_Link stepped up to her, and held her in a crushing grip against his chest. Zelda took comfort in it, her eyes still rolling tears. _

And another thing. That reflection. The reflection of _himself_. It was different, and it wasn't just the hairstyle.

"_He was my best friend, Link…" her voice was hollow. "He was my brother and I… could've, there were so many other things I could've done…"_

_Link's eyes were stony, grim, as he held his Princess, rubbing her back in soothing circles. "Nothing that would've satisfied the people, Zel, you said so yourself over and over."_

"I'll tell you what you could've done," Sheik's stomach boiled with anger at the realisation, and stepped forward from the archway, red eyes blazing. "You could've done me the courtesy of doing the spell right!"

_Zelda and Link spun round, eyes wide, Link reaching for his weapon as Zelda's hands glowed, and they were _seeing_ him, the man they'd just imprisoned, and yet…_

"I've aged!" Sheik hollered, fists clenched so tightly it hurt, "Look at me, I've aged, what _two years_? Maybe more, I don't know, but I've aged!"

"_Sheik?" Zelda was shaking, the light at her hands flickering with hesitance. "But… how did you escape…?"_

_Link charged, roaring, sword slicing through Sheik's shoulder, down to the hip. Sheik didn't feel it, and Link felt no resistance, like cutting air._

"I haven't escaped," Sheik spat, batting his hand at Link, too angry to enjoy the queasy look he had at having a hand shoved through his face. "I've been a good little prisoner for a very, very long time, and I'm surprised I'm having this conversation with you too, believe me. But _damn it_ I am ready to shake you, Zelda, how _could_ you?"

"_I don't, I don't understand…"_

"Five thousand years. _Five thousand years,_ that's how long the Lens has survived, how long _I've_ survived and believe you me it has been extremely tiring. I've served kings and tyrants and generals alike, and I've met men and women that changed the world many times over. Now I'm looking after one of your descendants, congratulations on the brood-to-be, by the way," he added sarcastically, as he thumbed over his shoulder at the recovering Hero, making her blush.

"You know what? I bet this is your fault." Sheik whirled round and glared at the Hero, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You were always terrible at spells that involved thinking. Oh, _feeling_, you had plenty of that, but the size of your brain was something to despair at when it came to spells."

"_Hey!"_

"And I've always hated the way you say that, fairy-boy. In fact, I just plainly hate you for botching this spell so badly."

"_The spell was perfect!" Link defensively shot back, "You're looking fairly well for a five thousand year old codger, aren't you? And you better not have hurt-"_

"For your information, that crazy girl has been under my care for the last seven years and she likes me. And herein lies our problem!" He spun back at Zelda, almost screaming at her, making her flinch. "I've lived with her, I spent almost every day out of the glass with her and I thought I wasn't aging but _look at me_! I'm older! Goddesses I don't even remember how old I was when you put me in there, but I'm assuming eighteen, because I look twenty. I've aged two years in seven, maybe more, considering how many hours that stack up to days and months that I've endured in this prison, Zelda. If I was just frozen I can live with her leaving me and growing old while I collect dust like a forgotten toy in the closet, but _no_! I age! Maybe in fifty years I'll hit thirty. Maybe in a hundred I'll turn fifty, and that's only if I stay out of the damn glass!"

_Zelda was pale, probably about to faint, and Link was trying to get him to stop but he was a ghost in their world just like they were a dream to him. But he was finished, anyway. He'd had his tirade, and the rage and frustration had drained, completely. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as Zelda stared at the ground, her fists shaking, the Hero giving a murderous snarl at the Sheikah._

"_You think you have the right to come here, yelling like a child to get what you want?" Link growled, and Sheik sighed. _

"I'm saying that you could've made your mind up. Make me eighteen forever, or make me age, properly. Did I ever complain about my punishment? I had no right to, sure, but I could've goaded you into executing me, or lump me in the world between worlds with Phantom Ganon, right? But I didn't. I let you do what you wanted, because it was all I deserved."

_Link and Zelda looked at each other, and then at him. He must look so different, especially to them. The jeans, sneakers, the ragged t-shirt, his multiple piercings in his ears, the fact that he didn't hide half of his face with his fringe anymore. They were teetering on whether to believe him, he could almost see their doubts._

"_Five thousand years…"_

"Yep."

"_How could that even be possible?" Zelda asked, shaking her head. "The Triforce is indeed powerful, but there is no way that it could last _five thousand years_. How could the mirror not have been lost, or damaged? It was supposed to be a quiet end for you, not, not this ridiculous, long stretch of subservience…"_

_She wiped her tears as the ghost of her old friend sighed and shrugged, unable to explain it himself. Zelda bit her lip and her gaze was imploring. "I didn't mean to do that to you. I'm sorry."_

Sheik gave a huffing laugh. "You don't need to apologise to me; you did what you had to, and it just… didn't work out for me. As all punishments are supposed to do. And I'm sorry for yelling at you, it was… the heat of the moment thing."

"_Just out of curiosity," Link said, who could detect awkward silences from a mile away, "What does she look like? My…" he glanced at Zelda, and then back at Sheik. "Our… descendant."_

Sheik's lip twitched up. "Aside from the fact that she's white and blonde, nothing like either of you. She's short, broad-shouldered, grey-eyed, and is a self-confessed ball of insanity. She threw a mass of cream at a boy's face today, for breaking her heart."

_Zelda looked ill at such improper behaviour while Link looked disappointed. "No duel to the death?"_

"No, sorry, that's against the law there." Sheik squinted, and rubbed his eyes. "You're getting blurry."

_Zelda tried to hold his hand in a panic, but their fingers brushed through one another's, a ghost touching a dream. Her face was an image of distress. "You're fading away!"_

"I guess our interview is over." Sheik uttered dryly, glaring at Link. "You, fairy-boy, better take good care of her, and for gods' sake stop messing around with ancient objects. And you, Zelda. Don't beat yourself up over this, do you hear me? The fact that you shed some tears for me made up for half the time I was in that Lens."

_Zelda was sobbing anew, desperately wishing she wouldn't have to lose her brother a second time. "But please, Sheik,"_

"I love another, Zelda," he confessed, with a small, almost shy twitch of his lip, "So you're going to have to settle for the stranger in the green dress."

"_It's a TUNIC!"_

"The _deluded_ stranger in the green dress."

_Sheik disappeared, reminding them of times past when he hadn't been so wrong, when he always got the last word before making his cheeky escape in a blinding flash of light. Link's wound of betrayal eased somewhat, and Zelda's guilt lifted as they looked at each other, and then at the Lens._

"_He healed," Zelda murmured, and Link nodded in agreement. _

-8-{C3 -8-{C3 -8-{C3

Sheik blearily opened his eyes and groaned. His head had an axe in it. There had to be; why else would it hurt so damn much? And his throat felt like shredded sandpaper. It was with difficulty that he forced himself up into a sitting position, the sheets sliding down his bare chest.

Sheets? Did he just collapse on top of the bed?

He rubbed his smarting eyes, noting with mild disgust the tear-tracks he found tracing there. He checked the time and winced at how long he'd slept. It was nearing sundown.

Then he paused, staring at the jug of water sitting on his table. And small, wrapped box, with a note tacked on the side. He vaguely recognised that box. Sheik forced his pounding head to remember, where had he….?

Oh, right. Lin's gift to him.

Sheik closed his eyes and kneaded his temples to suppress the growing pains in his skull before reaching for the jug of water. He drank like a camel. Winced mightily at the sharp cold of the water, before tiredly reaching for the card. He supposed after yesterday's behaviour he owed her to read it and look at the damned friendship chocolate…

Happy belated Valentine's Day. Hugs and kisses, from your Worst Nightmare.  
p.s: I think that was the first time I've seen you sleeping.

Sheik snorted, and regretted it when pain lanced up his nose. Painkillers. Now.

There was a box of them beside the chocolate. Damn it, Lin thought of everything. Sighing, Sheik opened the box and blinked, gently taking out his present.

Of course it was chocolate, but this had a lot of effort put into it. It'd been carved, melted, moulded together to look like a flower, Sheik wasn't sure what kind. Except it had dark petals, with a white centre dusted with brown sugar. He plucked a petal from the outer rim, taking a careful bite. It was the dark, bitter chocolate used mostly in baking cakes, or melting to make icing. It was plainest kind of chocolate, the kind he liked best.

Lin was a clumsy, _clumsy_ little absent-minded girl. This would have taken hours.

Another careful bite followed, wincing as the pain interrupted his chewing. Frustrated with the hangover Sheik clicked his fingers at the box of painkillers, took one, and clicked his fingers again.

The pain left immediately but left him famished. Sheik took another bite out of the flower, still holding the uneaten half as he wore a pair of jeans and fished a shirt out of the mess on his floor, still chewing as he opened manoeuvred into it the wrong way round.

He knocked on the wall that led to her room without thinking, as he always did when he wanted a simple word with her.

There was a knock back, and he phased through. She was sitting on the carpet with her back to their wall, finger clicking on the mouse and looking stony. Her hair was damp, and judging by the tracksuit trousers and the singlet, she'd just come back from a shower.

"Lin. Uh…" awkwardly remembering what had happened last night, he cleared his throat, unsure whether he was allowed to sit next to her. "I got your chocolate. Thank you."

"Mmm." She was looking through her computer at some old photos, a puzzled frown on her face.

Sheik shuffled where he stood, biting his tongue. "Um, Lin, look, about, well, last night…"

She tugged on his jeans before holding her laptop up. "Sheik, look at this."

He paused, sat down once he was told to do so, and placed the laptop across his knees and saw that the photos were of him. There were quite a few.

"As flattering as this gallery is, I don't see anything significant. Unless you're planning to send it to some bounty-hunters…"

"Sheik, we're students, I don't have the money. And that is not the point. Here. Give that to me."

Sheik obeyed, bemused. Click-click-click went her mouse, opening up a series of mug-shots.

"Look," she said, positioning the laptop so he could see it better as she scooted closer to him, "This is you three years ago."

Sheik sighed, and dutifully nodded. This was why he hated photos; it made his curse all the more apparent.

Ruthlessly, she continued. "This is you two years ago. Compare them."

Sheik sighed again. "I see no difference."

"Here's a photo of you a year ago. Compare them."

"No difference."

"Wrong. Your hair's longer."

Sheik blinked. He squinted at the photo, and then ran his fingers against his skull. "No…"

"And look. Here's us in the park, at summer camp last year when you were pretending to be an instructor. _You're taller_. Look at you. _Look_."

"Lin, I age. _Slowly_. I age a year every five of yours."

"That's not true. You don't know how many photos I've taken of you on the sly. _Look_. I'm going to run them year by year, kay?" the images marched past, and he remained unchanged. "But look, last year and this year, your hair's become longer, and I should know, I never thought you needed a haircut till now, _not once_. And these jeans, I _bought_ them for you last birthday and they were a little baggier then, and…"

"What brought this on?" Sheik murmured, almost reverently, as he looked at himself, then at her, and back at himself. It seemed too good to be true. As soon as he needed a solution it was right here, and _she_ was giving it to him and, gods, this was making no sense…

"I saw you asleep," Lin replied, disbelief colouring her tone. "_Asleep_. You said that you returned to the lens when you were unconscious, and it's always been true; I sometimes watched you, just, turn to dust. But this time, when I checked up on you when I saw this… you were still there."

She held in her palm the Lens of Truth, a crack forking across its surface like a lightning strike.

Sheik paled. He should be dead. The Lens was his life. He should be dead.

_But he wasn't_.

"I think the spell broke." Her voice was solid with abject certainty. "I think you're free."

Sheik licked his lips, slowly, before saying it out loud himself. "Free."

He tried again. "Free."

There was quiet between them aside from the low hum of the laptop. Sheik gently knocked the back of his head against the wall, saying it again. Lin played with her hair, and nudged her elbow against his side. "So what're you going to do now?"

Sheik looked at his fringe. Now that he really thought about it, had he really been able to see it at the top of his field of vision? Not till… a couple of months ago, anyway.

He was still holding the chocolate. "I'm going to eat this, for starters," he said, before taking another petal between his teeth. "It's good, by the way."

Lin blushed. "Thanks. I would've given you more but they died. Um, you sure you're not just being nice? About it being good, I mean. Because I was worried I'd burnt that a little, as well."

"It's good. Really. Thanks again," he shrugged, swallowing. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, uncomfortable and not understanding why.

Lin chuckled. "You know what you should do after you eat that?"

Sheik cleared his throat. "What?"

"Take off your shirt. You're wearing it the wrong way round."

"No I'm… oh." Sheik looked at the tag and frowned. "I blame the hangover."

"I wonder when _you_ became the absent-minded one," Lin poked his cheek, grinning cheekily. "Come on, fix it."

Sheik swallowed again, a different discomfort lodging his throat as he pulled the garment over his head, holding the chocolate flower between his teeth so it wouldn't get in the way. Didn't she remember what he'd done last night? Or had she been too drunk? But he couldn't imagine her stopping him if she'd been that far gone…

Her finger brushed his ribcage, making him shiver. "Crazy mountain man for this one, right?"

Sheik nodded, concentrating on putting his shirt back on. A futile effort, considering she was tracing a line down his arm, virtually stopping him. "A cut from… what was it again? You have so many."

"Lin, I can't…" She was sitting, no, straddling his lap, and smiling. And it wasn't one he'd seen on her when she'd been small and cute and innocent. He dropped his shirt, making the smile wider, and he crunched on the remains of his chocolate even as warmth fanned up from his gut. "You have no sense of subtlety."

"I know." She traced a scything gash that circled to his back. "Was this by a ghost or a lizard? I always get confused."

Her other hand rested on his shoulder and she was very, very close. The warmth was turning into flames. "I thought it was taboo for a girl to be this forward about her attentions."

The smile turned into a smirk. "Call it evens, considering how you surprised me last night."

"Ah." So she'd remembered that. He swallowed the last morsel of the gift, and asked a little uncertainly, "You didn't mind that?"

"You mean this?" and she closed the gap and their lips met, eagerly moving against each other, tongues eventually brushing, pushing, as her hands traced the lines of his spine and his fingers played in her hair and drew her against his chest, her breath shuddering as he tried to pull her singlet over her head.

"Wait. Wait. Moving too fast."

Sheik groaned. "It's been such a long time…"

"Then you can wait a little longer. I'm still new at this." She kissed him again, though, and smiled. "Movies, when a good one comes up, or we can snuggle up in front of my laptop, since it plays DVDs. And you can help me with my history homework."

Sheik rolled his eyes. "I've been doing that for the last seven years."

"And you can keep doing it for a lot longer, without your shirt."

"Sounds fair."

* * *

**I am WAAAAY too tired to post review replies right now. (-_-) It's 3.30 in the morning. I shall be sleeping now. **

**I like romance, but not so much valentines day, being single. :P Thus the guy gets whacked on Valentines but the couple gets together on the day after. LOL.**

**Leave a review, kay? That's like, fifty times better than any chocolate in the world.**


End file.
